Beginnings and Ends
by Parsat
Summary: The battle of Skaal was one of ultimate victory and ultimate pain for Belgen Gunther...but most importantly, one of ultimate intersection between the lives of many Gallians in love and death, beginnings and ends.
1. Foreword

**After completing a large Valkyria Chronicles transcript, I was extremely intrigued by the universe that the game introduced. Really, VC is such a lush game and so ripe for development that I had to take it upon myself to go where SEGA did not go and has not gone. What they have developed past VCI, I've been pretty disappointed with (namely, VCII, and by the looks of it, VCIII). I have some very detailed outlines of the expanded universe I've created, and if this story seems confusing at first, consider that everything will be revealed in due time.  
**

**_Beginnings and Ends_ is chronologically the first story in the saga, detailing the exploits of Belgen Gunther and others in EWI. There are two other stories that are part of the saga that will be released in due time. _Peace Breaks Out _tells the events of the year after the end of the Gallian conflict in EWII, and _Vicissitudes_ relates the stories of the Gunther family. I plan to concurrently update the three as we move along. I'm very excited about this, since this has been the first time I've planned something of this scale. I hope I will make things interesting for you, reader.  


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**Beginnings and Ends**

_Dedicated to My Parents: Welkin and Alicia_

_And to My Siblings: Isara, Theimer, Liesl, and Lilly_

**Foreword**

Much has been written about the two Europan Wars that gripped the nation, and the creation of heroes who fought and died for it. Mention Squad 7, or the Gunther family, or Faldio Landzaat, and all of Gallia knows. We teach it to our children in our history books, of the horrors and heroism of war. In the recent trend of literature, though, we see a different message, that of various paths intersecting and diverging, and then meeting again.

The landmark book is, of course, Irene Koller's _On the Gallian Front_, which combined years of research and clarity of prose to create a gripping story—the story of my family. Perhaps it was fitting for someone so close to our family to share the story that she did; she was my godmother and later my professor of Europan War History at Randgriz University. But the story I tell comes to our roots, and the roots of many, and perhaps it was fitting that someone entirely in the family take this task on.

It started as I searched through the Diary Archives, the collection of wartime diaries from EWI and EWII now housed in the Faldio Landzaat Library. It was, and is still, a passion of mine to read through these diaries. I found the diary of an Annica Bakker, a soldier who had fought in the militia's Squad 3, the squad that had propelled my grandfather Belgen to fame. His sudden rise to commander of the armed forces and his brilliant victory at the Jutland Plains demonstrating the skill of his 1st Armored Division may be his most remembered accomplishments, but the battle where he demonstrated the fullest extent of his strategy was at the Battle of Skaal. This was also the battle in which my grandmother, Camille, lost her life and caused my grandfather so much guilt.

When I opened the diary of Annica Bakker up, two pictures fell out. I shall never forget the moment as long as I live. There was a woman in both pictures who I could not doubt was Annica Bakker, but when I saw the pictures, I thought immediately that it was my mother, Alicia. The same eyes peered at me; the same healthy physique that passed down to us was evident. In one of the pictures she was next to a handsome militiaman, and in another she was next to an older woman who bore an uncanny resemblance to her. These were but two of the pictures in the diary that had fallen loose over the years, for her diary was much like a scrapbook.

I read the diary voraciously. I could not believe it. I read it again, and then again. I showed it to my father and mother, and they read and reread it with amazement. In the end, we had finally filled in two gaps in our family tree: Annica Bakker and Alexander Melchiott.

But the research had just begun. There were people to meet and interview, other diaries to read, places to visit…the hunt was on, as I looked to find out a piece of history and a piece of my family's roots. It was a story I found that told of new beginnings from old ends, and new ends from old beginnings.

_September 23, 1967_

_Faldio Gunther_

_Viscount of Bruhl, Heir Apparent_


	2. The Calm

**Chapter 1: The Calm**

**Fort Amatriain, Randgriz**

**March 11, 1915**

"Gentlemen, here's the situation."

General Roald Kankkunen stood at the head of the table, looking keenly at each of the officers. It was one of the things that people always remembered of him, that scrutinizing look and his aquiline nose. It was the look of an accomplished man: At 30 he became General of the Gallian Armed Forces, and by default, the commander of the Gallian Armored Corps. Now, a year into the Great Europan War, his powers of discernment were more evident than ever.

Despite the general acknowledgement of his qualifications, there were mixed emotions about him. He was equally demanding on those under him, noble and "commoner" alike. Although he himself was of noble stock, he was disliked by many of the nobility for his liberal ways and for his refusal to offer "connections." It was under his organization that the fast-acting Militia had gained so much power that it seemed to challenge the esteem of the Army, which had been commanded by those of noble blood since the days of the Valkyrur.

In any case, the officers of both the Militia and the Army looked back at him with nervousness and curiosity. What was he looking for? When he seemed satisfied, Roald pulled down the large map of Gallia and pointed at the northwestern corner with a pointing rod.

"As you all know, the Empire has pushed forward past Ghirlandaio and on towards the Naggiar Plains in the year that this war has gone on. With the Naggiar River frozen, they managed to cross and push past the other bank, but in a tactical blunder, forgot that the spring thaw and rains would make it much too swollen to cross.

"Since then we have recaptured the land west of Naggiar, except for a single holdout region: the river village of Skaal, historically the site of a stone quarry. Some 15 miles north of the village is the Skaal Dam, which lowered water levels sufficiently to allow the mining of stone that had been underwater before. This means that the Skaal area is fordable all year round, and because the Imperials have been able to ford the river, they have kept Skaal supplied. Our planned offensive will be to send an advance guard of Militia to blitz the city and hold the line against enemy counteroffensives while they await reinforcement from the army when it _finally_ mobilizes."

At the word "finally," his voice took a tone of slight disgust, but then he continued.

"I am deploying Militia Squads 3, commanded by Lieutenant Belgen Gunther, and 4, commanded by Lieutenant Haakon Kankkunen, to take the village. The 4th Infantry Division will comprise the reinforcement. Operation Spearthrust will commence with the assault of Skaal on March 16 at 0600."

Belgen and Haakon looked at each other and saluted.

"Yes sir!"

Roald had more to say. "Let me warn you two, though. This is not trench or tank warfare; this is small-scale urban warfare of a violence and intensity that is different from the other missions you have taken. Nevertheless, I know your capabilities, and am confident that your squads will do well. Dismissed."

The officers got up from their chairs and started to talk amongst each other. Belgen arose and shook Roald's hand firmly. Although Roald was only eight years Belgen's senior, the respect that Belgen paid to his commander seemed to make Roald much older.

"I won't let you down, General Kankkunen."

"You'll do fine, Belgen. How's Camille and the little one?"

"Actually, Welkin and his nanny are coming over to Randgriz in twenty minutes. I'm going to go pick Camille up, and we'll be heading to the train station."

Belgen walked briskly down the hall. A young man of 25, he had been in Randgriz Academy studying military theory when the war broke out a year ago. Because he was not a noble, however, he could not be an officer in the Army proper, and enlisted in the Militia instead. Belgen was a broad-shouldered, bearded man with dusky-brown hair. His eyes were capricious: One moment they could be hard with focus, and another moment they would dance with a playful light. His nature, though, radiated a consistent warmth and humility that set people at ease.

Haakon, his best friend, caught up to him. Haakon was the nephew of Roald Kankkunen, but eager to prove himself just as worthy as his uncle, he joined the Militia instead of the Army with such eagerness that he enlisted straight as a private. A year saw him rise in ranks extremely quickly, and he became squad leader after the former squad leader stepped on a landmine and lost his legs.

"You never told me Welkin was coming over today!"

"I was going to tell you last night, but I was so tired after working with Theimer that I clean fell asleep. Either way, little Welkin is definitely going to see his uncle Haakon."

They had just exited the building to see a large jeep just outside. Three people sitting on the jeep were beckoning to the two to hop in.

The driver was smiling and waving to them. "Hop in, Lieutenants!"

This was Theimer, Belgen's tank driver and chief mechanic. Although he was only eighteen years old and a Darcsen, he was already esteemed as a brilliant innovator in the field of mechanics and applied physics. For his age, he was well built, and he had a beard, uncommonly for a Darcsen. Sitting right behind him was his girlfriend, Sonah. Three years his younger and just as taciturn, she was Haakon's tank driver and mechanic, and it was agreed that she was just as intelligent and as dexterous as her boyfriend.

Sitting in the back next to her was Camille Alkins-Gunther, Belgen's loyal wife for four years. They had been childhood friends in Bruhl, and both went to university in Randgriz, although she had arrived three years after him due to the difference in their ages. It was thought that Belgen had decided to pursue a master's in military tactics at the nearby Randgriz Academy in order to be next to his love, who studied ecological biology at Randgriz University. Whatever the case, as soon as Camille arrived at Randgriz they were wed, and from that moment on they were inseparable. A war was not going to keep them apart.

As Belgen stepped onto the jeep next to his wife, she gave him a kiss and an embrace that he returned warmly. Haakon got in the front next to Theimer, and the jeep took off. The ride was perhaps only five miles away from the station, and the party soon found themselves waiting on the terminal.

Train 58 from Bruhl pulled up ten minutes later, and it was this one that they watched intently. Among a mass of people, a fair-haired maiden with a child in their arms caught their attention.

"Martha! Martha Phillips!"

The maiden's attention shot to Camille's waving hand.

"Mr. Belgen! Mrs. Camille!"

She went as fast as she could with a bouncing two-year-old in her arms.

"Welkies' been a good little boy while you were gone. Isn't that right, Welkies?"

She passed the child over to Belgen, who bounced him about a bit, reveling in his son's laughs.

"He's going to hate that name so much when he grows up, Martha."

"Oh, I'm sure he'll be used to it. I'm not giving it up anyway, even if he turns into a good officer like his father."

Welkin was passed around to Camille, who simply held him and smiled as he played with her flaxen hair. She admired how Welkin took on both Belgen's and her own features…it was a running competition for the two to compete for who Welkin inherited the most features from. The choices may have been decidedly narcissistic, but they were in good humor.

Haakon was next. Welkin already recognized his dear uncle Haakon, and seemed to brace himself. Sure enough, Haakon adventurously tossed him up into the air and caught a shriekingly happy Welkin.

"Come on, let's take him to camp."

Welkin took the ride with wide, curious eyes on Sonah's lap as they passed through Fort Amatriain. That was perhaps his most striking characteristic: Belgen's approachable nature and Camille's energy had combined in Welkin to produce a boy with insatiable curiosity. As they stopped outside the Militia lounge, they set Welkin loose. He walked with the sureness and the waddle of a baby, following passing militia members, then scurrying back to his parents, then pacing along the outside of the building. He tripped and fell to his face in the grass, but instead of crying he sat up and looked at a nearby flower on the ground.

"Isn't he cute? Just look at him staring at that lion's paw!" Camille walked over and neatly plucked the flower, putting it into Welkin's little fist. He seemed to stare at it for a moment before brightening into an expression of unbridled joy.

The door opened all of a sudden.

"Lieutenant! We've been waiting for you to come here!"

Belgen laughed. "You would, Amy, you would get the whole squad to give us a surprise."

"Well, being a sergeant does have its perks. Besides, who doesn't want to see little Welkin here?"

Amy Caird knelt by the child and tousled his hair. The second in command of Squad 3, she was a seasoned scout and an admired leader. A childhood in the country meant that she was extremely fit, and a family tradition of carpentry meant that she was also much more strong than she looked. Amy lead the group into a packed lounge…it seemed that she had not only gotten Squad 3 over, but also Squad 4 into the room.

"Permission for Officer Welkin to survey my detachment?" Amy saluted in a tongue in cheek fashion.

"Permission granted," Belgen smiled, and Amy scooped up the little boy into her arms, bringing him right next to the pool table.

"Hey, look, the lieutenant's kid is here! All right!"

One of the guys put down his pool cue and went straight over to Amy, scooping up the kid and bouncing him around.

"Walther…maybe you should ask the lieutenant if he wants to get picked up?"

"Come on, Webley, see how the kid's liking it?"

There was the snap and a flash of a camera. It was Frank Ellet, as always, with his camera.

"Oh man, Frank, you ever stop taking pictures?"

"Definitely not! It's my job to capture history," he said with a haughty air. "And what's the aspiration of the Nelson twins? To start a costume store!"

"Oh, can it, Frank," Walther replied hotly, silvery hair seeming to quiver with indignance.

"I guess we'll be famous then when we hit the history books," one of the boys watching the game cut in. This was Alexander Melchiott, a strong lancer and stronger idealist. He stood next to Wilson Spreckels, who was perhaps his total opposite, a pessimist and cynic, and yet his best friend.

"What does fame get us anyway?" Spreckels muttered. "A one-way ticket into the gossip machine, that's what."

"Better than being a hermit like Victor over there," said Frank, pointing behind his back to Corporal Victor Wulfstan, who was silently sitting on a wooden bench with furrowed brow.

"Hey, Nelson, whichever one you are, over here!"

Much to Walther's surprise, Calvaro Rodriguez the daredevil lancer ambled over, arms outstretched. He was known to be the wildest and most uncouth soldier in both squads, although like all men he had his soft spot. In his case it was children: Calvaro took Welkin on his back and zoomed around, making funny little special effects with his mouth and a general spectacle of himself.

"Never knew you were so good with the kids, Calvaro," Amy said wryly, arms crossed.

"Eh, what can I say? I might have had two or three of them, to the best of my knowledge."

There was raucous laughter all around, and Welkin laughed along too, imitating the people around him. Camille did not take too kindly at the last remark, though, and walked over to prevent her child from being further corrupted when the door suddenly opened with a creak.

"Hello? Is Lieutenant Gunther here?"

It was a girl with soft, brown eyes and long hair arrayed into two pigtails. She could not have been very old, perhaps just sixteen or seventeen years of age.

"That would be me. Oh no, you don't need to salute me here, no need to be so formal in the lounge. Now let's see, what was your name again?"

"Private Annica Bakker, sir."

"Ah, I remember now." Belgen smiled warmly. "The members of Squads 3 and 4 are just hanging around here before our general briefing. Why don't you get to meet them?"

"Holy crap!"

Everyone looked at a furiously blushing Walther, who grinned sheepishly.

"Whoa, sorry about that, but…you look just like Sergeant Amy over there."

Annica looked confusedly over to the woman he pointed at and flushed with embarrassment. Indeed, Annica could have passed for a younger version of Amy Caird. Amy walked over to her and smiled.

"Well, this is a happy coincidence. Maybe you're my long-lost little sister," Amy said with a smile.

Another snap and a flash. Frank was already on it with his pictures. "That'll be a good one for the books!"

"No, that won't. Get over here, Frank. Yes, now! We'd rather have a picture where we actually pose for you."

"Oh fine. I do hate nonspontaneous pictures though…"

"Just take the picture!"

He obliged, clearly a bit taken aback by the woman. Webley nudged Alexander next to him: "Hey, she's pretty cute, huh?"

Alexander said nothing, but merely looked on at the two women. Clearly in another reverie. "Huh? Oh yeah. Yeah…"

Belgen shook Annica's hand. "Welcome to Squad Three. You'll meet many great friends here, I promise."

All of a sudden, Welkin started to cry. It was totally without warning. Camille bounced him up and down a bit, whispering into his ear and trying to calm him down. It was to no avail. Not even Martha's calming voice could make him stop. The rest of the Squad was starting to grumble, when Annica stepped forwards.

"Here, let me try."

She picked up Welkin in her arms and rocked him a bit. Just as suddenly as he had started bawling, now he stopped and looked at her with wide eyes. Annica rocked him a little bit, then kissed him softly on the forehead.

"He's a beautiful baby," she remarked as she passed him back to Camille. "He reminds me of this little boy in Bruhl Orphanage I used to take care of a lot."

There was a stunned silence in the room, but perhaps no one was more stunned than Alexander Melchiott that day. He stared enraptured as Annica passed the boy back to his mother, saluted Belgen, then excused herself to unpack her belongings. A silence continued to prevail as the door closed. It was Haakon who finally broke it.

"What a girl...but in any case, I would just like to inform all of you that briefings on the next operation will be coming in tonight, and that we will leave the day after tomorrow. Get some rest. We'll need it."

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**UPDATE (12/6/2012): I've been meaning to rewrite this chapter for the longest time from the feedback that I got from reviews, but I didn't have the time. Come to think of it, I still don't...**


	3. Star Crossings

**Chapter 2: Star Crossings**

**Fort Amatriain, Randgriz**

**March 11, 1915**

Annica was alone in the women's barracks. Everything seemed to have happened so quickly…only a few days ago it had been her seventeenth birthday at the orphanage, which she spent working with the little ones …only a few days ago she had received the draft summons. She had been lucky they had not taken her at sixteen, the minimum drafting age, but as the war ground on Gallia needed all the people they could get.

She had refused to sign up for a combatant role. She could not imagine, _could not imagine_ herself killing anyone. She had signed up to be a medic, but at the moment the army needed support engineers to help dispense first aid and ammunition on the field. Perhaps it was a better job for her. Years of taking care of the kids around her, playing outside with them, and wiping their tears had given her great stamina, a good amount of dexterity, and an ability to comfort people in the worst times. Perhaps they were right in giving her that role, even if they had given her a rifle.

She had just finished stowing away her things, and was now sitting at the desk. In her hands she held the most precious thing she had…her scrapbook. It was quite a volume now…she had started it three years ago, and it had slowly accumulated in size. Photographs and pictures, though, were rare in coming, and so she was only halfway through the book.

She gazed fondly at the pictures of the orphans that she had taken care of. Holding the lieutenant's baby had given her so much joy…there was something special about this baby. And the sergeant who looked just like her…hopefully she could get that picture of the two of them.

As she introspected on all these events, there was a sudden knock on the door. The cross-squad party in the lounge was going at full swing at this time; she couldn't imagine why anyone would be returning.

She opened the door and recognized the man as one of them who had stood beside the pool table.

"Oh, hey. Annica Bakker?"

He sheepishly rubbed the back of his head.

"Yes, that's me."

He was tall and very fit. His hair was brown, but streaked with silver though he appeared to be only about her age.

"Hey, I was wondering…do you need help unpacking?"

"No thanks, it's all right. I just finished."

"Oh…well, do you need any other help?"

Annica thought for a moment. She wasn't quite sure what his intentions were.

"Well, for starters, you could introduce yourself."

"Oh, right! M—My name's Alexander Melchiott. I'm a lancer in Lieutenant Gunther's Squad 3. I saw you introduce yourself to him and thought you maybe would like some help."

"That's sweet of you. You didn't feel like partying?"

"Mmm…didn't really feel like it today. Besides, there's something a lot cooler than the party happening tonight—a meteor shower! The Lanciarii meteor shower is set to be the brightest in more than two centuries tonight. What do you say?"

Alexander reminded Annica of a little boy she had looked over who was obsessed with clouds. At least he exuded that same nervous energy.

"Hmm…a meteor shower? It sounds pretty exciting. Are you into that?"

"Yeah. I've loved looking up at the stars and the moon since I was a kid growing up in Kloden. I was actually going to enter Randgriz University to study astronomy in their Early Scientist program until the war broke out."

He noticed the leather-bound scrapbook lying on the desk.

"So what's that? It looks pretty cool."

"This? Oh, it's my scrapbook."

"Wow. Can I take a look?"

"Sure."

"There are a lot of kids here…you must really love working with them if you got a job like that in the orphanage."

He immediately regretted his words when he saw the way she looked down and bit her lip.

"I…I'm an orphan. My parents disappeared a very long time ago. I've lived in the orphanage all my life, and as soon as I was old enough to hold a baby I was a babysitter. So all those kids…I take care of them. Or at least I used to, before I got drafted."

"Oh! Well, that's nice. Real nice of you. I left a little brother behind in Kloden."

He leafed through the scrapbook again. All of the pictures were of children…but there was no picture of anyone else her age. Alexander was a bit perplexed before it dawned on him that perhaps he was the only person who had gone out of his way to talk to a lonely orphan. Then again, it had been the first time he had gone out of his own way to meet anyone.

"It's a beautiful scrapbook. You did a good job arranging all of the pictures."

He closed the book and handed it back to her.

"You really mean it?"

"Yeah…I guess we all see beauty in the things that mean the most to us. You've got your scrapbook, and I've got my night sky."

He glanced at his watch and leapt into the air with a flurry of excitement.

"Whoa! The meteor shower should be starting soon! You coming?"

He looked at her with such nervous expectation that she had to agree. As soon as she said yes, he broke out into a smile of pleasure that she had to smile herself. It was just so comforting…

"I scouted out this place days ago as the best location to view it. Randgriz has a fair bit of light pollution, but on this hill we can avoid it."

They had walked a mile from Fort Amatriain to a nearby grassy hill. Alexander fell backwards into the soft grass with a soft thump, giving a sigh of contentment, while Annica sat down right next to him. He pointed out the planets to her, as well as a couple of constellations that were coming into view.

"That's the Spiral over there. And over there it looks like you can faintly see Pleiadeia. And of course, over there is Signir's Lance, where the Lanciarii shower's going to come from."

He had not even finished his sentence when a faint glimmer flashed across the sky.

"Well, what do you know? It's already starting!"

More and more stars began to fall, passing from the hilt of Signir's Lance and radiating past the tip. As they fell they became increasingly brilliant, flashing with glows of blue and white.

"It's so beautiful…how do they all fall the same way?"

"No one knows the scientific reason. According to legend, though, Signir was a great Valkyria whose only son, Retonne, fell in love with a Darcsen girl. They eloped, and when Signir found out, he was furious. He took his lance and fired a blast of flame right at his son, killing him. After he did that, though, he was stricken with grief, and turned the lance upon himself. They say after they buried him and his lance with him, the constellation appeared. They say when the meteor shower comes, it's him trying to purge the lance of his son's blood by firing out all the flame in it."

There was silence for a while.

"So…what happened to the Darcsen girl?"

"She had a son and a daughter, twins, with Retonne. We don't know what happened to them, but it may be that their descendants are still alive."

Silently they watched the stars streak past.

"It's not right." Alexander broke the silence.

"What's not right?"

"Why Signir gets his own constellation, but the Darcsen-lover and the Darcsen don't. It's not fair."

"But wasn't Signir the hero?"

"So? I think love is a lot more heroic than war."

"I never thought about it."

"That's what I read in the books."

Another silence.

"Alexander…have you been in battle before?"

"Huh? Well…only a few raids that we've done, but nothing really major. I was just attached to the squad two weeks ago. But it didn't seem that bad; it actually seemed kinda glorious. I just pretended that I was Signir, holding that lance of mine."

Annica laughed. It was a good thing for Alexander that it was still relatively dark, because he was blushing furiously.

"W—Wha? Hey! Can't a man dream every now and then?"

"No, no, it's just…you're interesting, you know that?"

"Well, I pride myself in being different. My friend Wilson says I'm an idealist. I just think I'm reasonable."

"I'm sure you are," she sighed. "I don't know…I'm still worried."

"Don't worry. I'll watch over you. Amy'll look over you. Heck, the whole squad's got your back. Just do your duty for Gallia and don't be afraid."

The meteor shower was starting to abate, until finally the stream of falling stars became only a trickle, and then a few intermittent drops.

"Well, what did you think?"

"I thought it was wonderful. Will we be able to see another one again?"

"The Lanciarii meteor shower isn't happening for another 76 years. I mean, not that I don't hope you live to 93. But the sky outside Skaal, where the battle's going to be, is supposed to be pretty clear. If we make it out…maybe we might see something."

They were walking down the path now back to camp. It was very dark now that the starlight was gone, but Alexander's excellent night vision allowed them to get back safely. It was a silent trip. As they approached the barracks, the laughter floating out into the late night told them that the party was probably over. They stopped just outside the women's barracks, looking intently at one another.

"Have a good night, Annica. I'll see you tomorrow during drill."

"Thanks for a great night, Alexander. It was beautiful."

He started to walk away towards the men's barracks, but abruptly turned around.

"Wait…you said you were a support engineer, correct?"

"Well, yes."

"Hey, how about you be my ammo escort? Every lancer has an ammo escort that helps carry the extra lance tips. I haven't gotten an assignment yet. You should ask Amy."

"Oh…well, I'd be delighted!"

"Nice! See you tomorrow then!"

Alexander waited until Annica closed the barrack door before pumping his fist with excitement. A perfect ending to a star-crossed night.


	4. The Caird Detachment

**Chapter 3: The Caird Detachment  
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**Fort Amatriain, Randgriz**

**Dawn, March 12, 1915**

It was not even light outside when Amy Caird awoke. Quietly she slipped down from her top bunk, getting dressed for the day. The drill before the mission was always the busiest, and she had to help plan the logistics after that. Being a sergeant had duties a plenty, just as much as the lieutenant.

In the darkness she could see the new recruit sleeping on the bunk below hers. Annica was uncannily like her indeed, even curled up on her left side with a pillow in between her legs, the exact same posture that Amy herself slept in.

Last night Amy had gone back to barracks quite early to talk to the young recruit, but she was nowhere to be found. Amy wasn't much for parties; she felt too old for them. She was already 22, a prime marrying age in Gallia. If anything, many women her age, like the lieutenant's wife, already had children.

Not that she didn't look good enough to find a man. She remembered the faces in her father's carpentry workshop looking at her, the only woman there. They were attracted faces, but intimidated ones as well. They bent too easily under her authority; they didn't see her as equal despite her talks with them. Most men were like that before her, she thought.

There was a hint of sunlight as Amy stepped outside for her run. She always felt the least inhibited when she was running…it had been a pastime of hers growing up in the countryside. She didn't even care that she would be running again in an hour and a half bearing full gear.

"Top o' the dawn, Amy."

It was Haakon Kakkunen, lieutenant of Squad 4. At this hour, he was the only other person up. Occasionally he ran with Amy, but usually he sat outside writing under the rising sun. It was going to be his magnum opus on military leadership, he replied when asked about it.

"Up for a jog today, Haakon?"

"I think I might. I think I've just about wrapped up all my writings."

They started to jog along the easy main path that trailed through the middle of the fort and out to Randgriz.

"Will you be publishing your writings?"

"Hopefully once this war is over. I've got a few publishers that are already interested."

Amy smiled at Haakon as they jogged.

"Such a master of the art of war, you," she teased.

Haakon laughed. "Well, I don't claim to be one at all. Belgen, my uncle…many great strategists out there."

Amy breathed sharply as they started to near Randgriz. "You think Belgen is a great strategist?"

"Sure. He just hasn't proved his mettle yet in a real, large battle. The army has been handling all the big battles so far. I don't blame them, the militia as part of the main armed forces is only five years old anyway. If I understand my uncle right, though, he's doing this because he sees the same thing I see in Belgen."

"Even the tanks?"

"Well…I'm not entirely sure about that. He seems to trust Theimer a lot about the tanks. Sure, the Imps have been doing really well with them, but Gallian infantry has always been the best. I joined his trial run with tank commanding just to humor him. At least Sonah is great at handling the tank."

A bit of silence.

"Why, what do you think about Belgen?"

"Well…he was my second commanding officer. You know that I was one of the few survivors of the former Squad 8. From the skirmishes I've participated with him, he seems competent. He's not particularly eager for trench warfare, though, so that's a huge plus in my book. But I don't know how well he'll do under pressure. He still has some proving to do."

There was no sound but the sound of steady breathing and running feet as the gates of Randgriz loomed before them. Amy was the type to only be silent when in deep thought, Haakon thought. What was on her mind?

"Haakon?"

"Yeah?"

They touched the gates, then turned about to run back to the fort.

"How big do you think this battle is going to be?"

He inhaled sharply. "I don't know. If we oust them from Skaal, we might not be able to build up enough to prepare against a counterattack. Besides, they've still got Naggiar. Why, you worried?"

"Maybe. The way Belgen has talked about it to me, he's got some mixed feelings about the battle coming up. At least he knows how to take a break from all the tactics…with his wife in the squad he's a lot at ease."

"I do envy that he's got a person to turn to. Sometimes I wished I could too…my upbringing doesn't make it easy though."

"Since when has it been easy anyway?" Amy asked rhetorically, with a hint of sarcasm in her voice. Haakon seemed a bit surprised by her reply, but he had to smile.

"Right on about that one. You know, Amy, you make a pretty good person to talk to. Have to love that straight shooting."

She smiled playfully at him. "That's what I was paid to do. Just don't fall behind."

And with that she put on an extra sprint towards the fort.

* * *

**Morning**

"Sergeant Caird!"

Amy turned around to see Alexander and Annica walking towards her. Instantly she guessed what they were here for.

"Found your ammo escort, Alexander?"

He saluted. "Affirmative!"

Amy smiled at Annica, who seemed to hang back a little. "You would make a good match with Alexander. He's a good man…just needs someone to slow him down sometimes."

Alexander jumped a bit, but he wasn't really upset at all. Annica giggled.

"I figured out that much about him."

"H-hey! Uh, Sergeant, could you give her the lowdown or something?"

Amy saw that it was a diversionary tactic, so she decided to cut him some slack.

"Right. Well, Annica, the militia's fairly new, and so we apologize if things are fairly messy at the moment. You just happen to be in the squad with the tacticians experimenting all the time. In any case, for this upcoming operation we'll be combining Lieutenant Gunther's and Lieutenant Kakkunen's Squads 3 and 4. So we're training for that."

Annica nodded. "So do we all train as a unit? Or…"

"We'll be performing several battle rehearsals through the whole day in our detachments, the groups of seven we're split into. I'll explain later, but just remember that you're in my detachment, the Caird Detachment. Now if the others would just show up…ah! There they are. Here, let me introduce them to you. We've got our two shocktroopers, Privates Walther and Webley Nelson over here."

The two silver-haired boys waved at the same time.

"Private First Class Ross Peron is our sniper."

He saluted back. "At your service."

"And Private Wilson Spreckels is our second scout, besides me."

He had a pessimistic, phlegmatic appearance. Alexander wasn't kidding when he called him his total opposite.

"More drudgery, as usual."

"Right. That's the Spreckels optimism showing. Now I hope you all read the briefings? Carefully? Well, in case you're too shy to tell me, I'll quickly explain. We'll be entering Skaal through the main city, which is a bunch of stone buildings all around. Squad 3 is tasked with capturing the city, while Squad 4 will blitz past us and capture the small industrial complex facing the river. Behind this factory is a series of Imperial trenchworks they've constructed that they will fall back to. We haven't confirmed for certain, but by the way the geography and the map works, it appears that there has to be a series of tunnels leading through to the trenches underneath the city. It'll be up to us once we capture the city to find the tunnels and clear the trenches, rather than charge straight across. Got that?"

"So what exactly is our job?" Annica asked. "I wasn't sure which detachment I was when I read it."

"Good question. We've been assigned to capture their city hall near the center of town. Since we'll actually be outside more than inside for the first part of the battle while we make our way to the center, Alexander will actually be running a lance. Most of the other lancers have back-mounted flamethrowers or stormtrooper gear."

A tank rumbled forward towards the gathered crowd of militiamen. The hatch opened, and Belgen popped his head out.

"All detachments, make sure you've got wax rounds and dud explosives, then head over to the transports. We'll be heading to the battle rehearsal area in five minutes!"

* * *

"Go! Go! Go!"

The lorries pulled up to the outskirts of the training area, an old abandoned village of brick. The location had been carefully considered by Belgen and Haakon beforehand. Because its village organization was very typical for settlements as old as Skaal, it was a prime place to perform a rehearsal. Squads 12 and 14 had volunteered to take on the Imperial roles for the rehearsal.

Amy hopped out of the truck. "I'll take point! Standard wedge formation behind me! Get ready to move in once the radio call comes in."

As the majority of Squad 3 and 4 went in, the detachment could hear the constant rat-tat of gunfire. Even if they knew it was wax, it still felt much like the real thing. This was battle. In about ten minutes, the report came that the borders had been secured, the signal for the Caird Detachment to move in. Annica felt a little lurch in her stomach as the large radio box Amy was listening into brought in the call.

"All right, we're moving in. Alexander, take the box."

They moved past some hedgehog tank traps and into the village. They were following the Rodriguez Detachment from Squad 4 between large, two-story brick buildings. A corner approached, and the two detachments pressed up against the wall.

"There's bound to be an MG around the corner, soldiers. Smokes on the ready," Sergeant Calvaro Rodriguez told the rest of the group. He exposed the butt of his lance around the corner, and a sudden patter of wax pounded the ground, confirmed his suspicions.

"Altermann, Weir, get your smokes out there!"

The two pitched the smokes around the corner, which hissed and filled the defended boulevard with smoke.

"Hit the dirt, Caird Detachment, we're moving in first!"

They could hear the steady drumming of the MG firing wax over their heads as they crawled down the cobblestones. Walther tossed over a "grenade" (a potato instead of their customary stick grenades), and the MG suddenly stopped, simulating the explosion. The detachment got to their feet and rushed the last stretch. Upon finding all of the "Imperials" down, they continued to run through the boulevard to the central plaza. As they ran they could see more and more wax marks on the walls and on the ground.

The plaza was a mess. Gunfire was sounding everywhere, and red wax was flying in all directions. They took cover behind a stone wall before the large City Hall. There were several "Imperial" fireteams out there putting up a fierce firefight.

"Ross!" Amy shouted over the noise. "Take out the lancers first!"

"Roger that!"

Annica could see the scouts and stormtroopers rise up intermittently and fire off at the fireteams. Alexander nudged her.

"You're supposed to lend some supporting fire," he said. I can't waste my own ammo at the moment."

"Oh."

Nervously, she rose up and aimed down her sight at the nearest "enemy" she saw: a scout firing away. If only she could stop shuddering! This was just a drill, and already she couldn't aim. She squeezed off the five shots quickly, but her trepidation only made her accuracy worse: She missed each shot. With dismay she quickly got back behind cover and reloaded, a bit embarrassed, and still just as nervous and frightened. As she stood up to fire, though, she felt a sudden smack on her arm, and then another on her hand and chest.

"Ah!"

"Get down!"

Wilson had pulled her down behind cover.

"Don't stay outside so long like that! You're gonna get yourself killed that way!" Wilson's tone seemed to have a bit of an edge to them. Annica felt so mortified…she felt her face turn as red as the red wax that was now spattered on her uniform as Amy called for a medic.

The gunfire seemed to slacken for a bit as accurate Gallian fire eliminated the fireteams. As the medic approached, Amy crouched in front of Annica and looked her in the eyes.

"I don't blame you for the mistake, Annica, but you need to be careful. You're our support. We need you for ammo and first aid in the battle. If this were the field, you could be dead or incapacitated, and our ability to complete our objective would be compromised. Please watch out next time. We'll need to leave you here with the medic here and go on without you, because that's what would happen if it happened during battle."

Annica nodded, trying not to look Amy in the eyes in shame. But Amy insisted on keeping eye contact, lifting Annica's head up.

"It's all right. You haven't gotten your baptism yet…everyone chokes their first time. Just be careful, and be aggressive when you need to, and you'll come out okay. All right? You'll get your chance next time."

Amy hugged her lightly, then turned to the rest of the squad.

"Caird Detachment, move out! We've got a City Hall to liberate."

Alexander whispered a goodbye to Annica as they hopped over the stone wall, the noises of their boots fading quickly against the shouts of men and the sounds of gunfire. Soon Annica was left alone with her own thoughts.

_How does she do it? She looks just like me...but I'm completely different from her. And Alexander…I can't fail him next time. He needs me for ammo…_

_No, I won't fail next time_._ The Caird Detachment needs me!_


	5. Convoy

**Chapter 5: Convoy**

**March 14, 1935**

**En route to Molotov**

"March 14, 1935. 0800: Militia Squads 3, 4, and the 34th Artillery Squadron move out from Fort Amatriain to Molotov, 35 miles from the mission point. Skies are cloudy, but no fog. Around 50 degrees. Morale appears to be high. It may be the larger number of new recruit replacements that we've gotten after the transfer."

Belgen wrote in his logbook and scrutinized a map laid in his lap, jotting down extra notes here and there. It was hard to concentrate inside this rumbling tank, but thankfully Theimer had made it quite roomy. It was a very new prototype, and quite costly too. Belgen even had to pay out of his own pocket some of the expense for a tank that defied Gallia's traditional military strategy.

"I don't like it, Theimer. I don't like it," Belgen said, shaking his head. "It's almost as if it's a setup. Crack troops rushing in and then trying to hold off a counterattack never works. We're going to get cut to pieces if we try to hold off the Imperials fording the river."

"Only if we had more tanks, Belgen. Only if we had more tanks." Theimer seemed to be enjoying the ride…this was going to be his tank's baptism by fire, and he lived for the moment where his work would be demonstrated to its fullest potential.

"At the same time, I wonder. Why would General Kankkunen choose us for this mission? We're only the Militia, after all. I figured he would transfer us over to the trench lines and do with us that way."

"Only if he were like the other brass who look at us like dirt. You know the General wouldn't do anything of that sort. He actually seemed kind of interested when we presented that paper to him on tank warfare."

"I guess. I'm glad Haakon is tagging along with us. I have a gut feeling about this one. You know what I mean…"

Theimer did. The last gut feeling he had was in the trench line, when they had been ordered to move out into No-Man's-Land for a charge. It was a lucky thing that Belgen's gut feeling had led them to scout the forest anchoring the enemy flank: They discovered an enemy ambush and quickly put them to flight, managing to find the hidden animal trails to get the upper hand in the vicious forest battle that followed. Even though the forest had been captured and the trench overrun the next day, a third of his squad had become casualties.

"Get me the radio controls, Theimer."

Belgen placed the headphones on his head, tuning into the officer communication channel.

"Haakon, you there?"

"I hear you, loud and clear. What's going on?"

"Once we get there, we need to send some reconnaissance ASAP to scout out the site. I have a gut feeling again."

"Two detachments sound good? One from you, one from me?"

"That should be fine, but switch the shocktroopers out for scouts or engineers. Keep the lancers; the Imperials might have some armor support."

"All right then, will do. Sonah, you have anything to say to Theimer?"

"Theimer, don't get too happy with your tank. You're going to get us lost if you don't focus…you are at the head, after all."

Her voice was so kindly chiding that Theimer couldn't help but laugh. "All right then, dear, but you'd best not distract me too. You know I always screw something the wrong way when you're talking to me. Unless I am going the wrong way, then it might be a good idea."

Belgen said a hasty over and out before cutting the transmission. Much as he enjoyed listening to Sonah and Theimer's lovable banter, he couldn't risk Theimer losing the way.

* * *

"You nervous?"

Alexander and Annica held hands in the lorry, two detachments of seven facing each other. She shook her head silently. She had actually improved over the course of the drills they had been doing, growing a bit more confident and a bit bolder every time. Alexander squeezed her hand comfortingly.

Frank Ellet, from Squad 4's Wulfstan Detachment, grimaced. "Well, aren't you two a happy couple? Can't you guys do this someplace else other than our long ride over?"

"Even though I hate your camera-snapping guts, I'll voice my agreement too. The hell is wrong with you, Alex?" Spreckels said grimly.

"Oh, come off it, Ellet, Spreckels. You two don't make it much more bearable either," Amy warned. "Especially you, Ellet, or else I might have to tell your wife in R&D…"

Frank slouched on the bench again. "Ugh. Fine, you know how I am. Don't feel too good with my camera in the very last van by itself and my pregnant wife still back at base. I'll live somehow."

"Did you come up with a name yet?" Walther inquired.

"No, we've still been thinking up names."

"I hear Karl is the most popular name right now," Webley ventured.

"We already decided Porter for a male name. We still can't decide what a good girl name would be."

"Rose, maybe?" Amy inquired.

"Or Alice?" Annica ventured.

"Mmm…too simple. Flower names…well, I guess they're okay. They just have to pack a punch. A name that people will remember."

A hubbub rose in the lorry as various names were thrown about. Marie? Too plain. Brooke? Not quite there. Morgan? Unisex names are lazy. Licorice? That one almost garnered Walther a slap on the face for being so mind-bogglingly idiotic.

The soft-spoken Russell York piped up. "Freesia?"

Ellet looked at him with a quizzical look. "What the hell of a name is Freesia?"

"It's a flower that grows in the Barious Desert. It blooms by night and closes by day. It's really a neat one."

"If it weren't so ugly a name, that wouldn't be half bad," Ellet said, watching as Russell slumped back into silence.

"If I give you one good name, will you be quiet?"

All eyes turned to Corporal Victor Wulfstan, who had not said a word since the beginning of the trip. He sat straight with perfect posture, quiet and cold, unbothered by the jarring truck ride. He had been enduring the noisy trip with perfect silence, befitting his hunting and sniping experience. Still, it was surprising that he would even speak with a statement that didn't make him look like a misanthrope.

"Am I hearing this right? Corporal?"

"Well? Take it or leave it. Either way, just do us a favor and be quiet."

"I'm not the one who's making the noise…"

"I don't care."

"Fine. Then whisper it into my ear."

Wulfstan reached over and whispered a single name through cupped hands into Frank's ear. The effect seemed to be immediate: Frank's eyes widened and he nodded in some amazement.

The lorry stopped suddenly, lurching forward and sending its occupants tumbling about. They had finally reached Molotov. Victor, who was sitting closest to the rear, was the first to climb out.

"How did you come up with that name?" Frank asked as Victor rose.

"It was my sister's name."

"I never knew you had a sister."

He made a glance backwards, before saying without any emotion whatsoever:

"She's been dead for twenty-five years."

* * *

Molotov, the site of a decisive battle in which the Imperial offensive had been stopped just a year prior. Formerly a very small village on the edge of the Ardennes Forest in Central Gallia, it had been converted into a headquarters for the Eastern Front after the Imperials had been driven out. The place bustled with activity as the Militia unpacked supplies and ammunition, set up artillery pieces for the impending battle, and went about the chores that make up life in the army.

Belgen and Haakon, true to form, had called an officer conference: Two lieutenants, two sergeants, and ten corporals, as well as the officers from the 34th Artillery.

"Generally, the quality of our reconnaissance has been good. However, this has only been because we have had the benefit of twelve other militia squads with us in very large scale engagements. I have misgivings over the quality of the information given to us from the brass, so I need a scouting party of two detachments."

"My detachment is ready, sir," Amy saluted.

"Corporal Wulfstan, take your detachment," Haakon said.

A curt nod and a salute. "It will be done."

"Just one thing," Belgen continued. "This isn't a trench or an assault operation; I just need you to stay in the outskirts of the forest and spot rough enemy strength, deployments, and the intactness of the buildings. It'll all play into our hands if we can know these things. Switch out your shocktroopers for scouts or engineers. Do not engage if you can help it, but if you're spotted, strike hard, strike fast, and get away."

"I'll be glad to accompany Amy and Victor as an engineer," Corporal Aaliyah Knight spoke. Coming from the desert had lent her a certain charisma, so much that she could get away with calling people by first name. "I can even take my best scout, Mira. She's a Darcsen, but…"

"That should be fine, Corporal Knight."

"Belgen, don't you think we should maybe leave a submachine gun there somewhere? At least to hold the rear of the scouting party?"

"Hmm…I guess you're right. Corporal Wulfstan, keep Private York with your detachment; he's more observant than our other shocktroopers. I want open eyes and ears on this one. Any questions? Dismissed."

A final salute, and then the officers streamed out of the tent to rejoin their detachments.

"Wonder why we have to check the intactness of the buildings," Amy remarked as she walked out with Victor Wulfstan and Aaliyah.

"If we haven't barraged them with artillery yet," Victor replied, "and all of the buildings were blown up by the enemy, they'll be cutting off pathways for us to infiltrate the trenchworks and creating chokepoints to funnel us through."

"I guess that makes sense…he can be so hard to understand sometimes," Amy replied with a bit of a huff.

Aaliyah made an effort to cheer her up. "That's just him being serious again. I mean, when has he failed us yet? Once this battle is over, he'll be fine!"

There was no reply but the sound of heavy footsteps trodding an uncertain path.

_We all try to assume the best before each battle…but those of us who have seen too much and survived too much know…_

_And we are the ones charged with bringing hope to our fellow soldiers, when it's us who are doing the hoping. I think of my detachment, and I wonder…is this the beginning or the end? _


	6. The Face of Death

**Chapter 6: The Face of Death  
**

**March 14, 1915**

**Ardennes Forest**

"Whew! I think that should do it," Alexander remarked as he tossed several branches on top of the lorry. It was hidden in a dense thicket, and the branches they had piled it on perfectly completed the camouflage.

"That gnarly old tree over there should be a good landmark to help us find it again," Frank Ellet remarked, taking a quick picture. They had allowed him to take his camera with him for "reconnaissance," as long as he didn't blow all his film on the sights of the forest. Realistically, the chance was that they wouldn't get close enough for his camera to be effective anyway.

"All right, let's move out," Amy commanded. "Spreckels, take point. Goose formation behind him."

If the map was correct, they were about two miles from Skaal: A relatively long distance to travel through the thick forest, but they could not risk being seen by enemy patrols. They moved in a relatively spread-out chevron with Wilson at the front center, allowing them to travel swiftly with a wide range of vision.

They had covered about a mile when Annica realized that Alexander, who had been on the rightmost edge, had suddenly disappeared from the detachment. She turned back to see him standing stock still a hundred paces away.

"Amy? Something's wrong with Alexander…"

"What? What's the matter with him?"

She turned back to see him furiously pointing to the ground below him. This could only mean one thing…

"Oh boy, Alex…you couldn't have looked before you stepped?"

"Sorry, Sarge. No one ever said we'd be wading through a minefield."

Corporal Knight, who had started her career as a minesweeper, took a good look at the mine underneath his feet.

"By the looks of it, it's been here for at least a year. There's a lot of growth around it, and the mine itself is a bit rusted. It's probably one that _we_ placed back when we fell back to Molotov in the beginning of the war. In fact, it's of Atlantic make, back when we bought munitions from them. The clearings could be full of them."

Although the boy maintained an appearance of surprising coolness, Amy could see him tremble slightly. In her head she sized up the situation…there was a reconnaissance mission of the utmost importance to be done, and they definitely could not afford to stay here for very long. On the other hand, she couldn't just leave her only lancer here.

"Corporal Knight. Private Bakker. I want you to stay here and get Melchiott here out of this fix. The rest of us, move out. We'll take a double column formation with me and Spreckels on point to avoid any mines that might be on the way."

Corporal Wulfstan spoke up. "Leaving both our engineers with him?"

"We're not going for an extended firefight or a minesweeping, Victor. He's in more need of their service right now, in any case," Amy replied. "Let's move."

Frank was about to snap a picture of Alexander's pitiful plight before Victor dragged him away from the scene. The rest of the detachment lumbered off into the forest. None looked back save Russell York, who looked and gave the three a thumbs-up.

"It was smart of Amy to peel you off from the group, Annica," Aaliyah Knight said as she carefully patted away the dirt around the mine.

"Why is that?"

"Can't tell you how many sweepers we lost when people who stepped on mines snapped and ran off. Of course, Alexander, you're probably not the type to do that, but better safe than sorry. Man's turns into a monster when death's looking him in the face."

She had a screwdriver, a pair of small wirecutters, and her wrench laid out on the floor next to her, ready to tackle the mine when her face suddenly paled.

"Well, I'll be buggered…you just happened to step on the one mine I can't defuse without special tools."

It took a while for the meaning to sink in for Alexander.

"Wait, what?" he sputtered quickly. "So you're saying that it's the end for me?" His gaze shifted uneasily between the two engineers before him. His tone was not so much hysterical as it was disbelieving.

"Well…"

"What did he step on?" Annica inquired.

"It's the Atlantic S3-B mine, but we call them Bouncers. As soon as your foot lets go, there's a set of springs in here that pop the mine into the air about chest level and set off the fuse, where it explodes. The main explosive actually isn't that great, but the disk fragments into some pretty nasty chunks. And the thing is, I can't sweep this mine without specialized equipment." Aaliyah bit her lip.

"Damn. And I thought I would at least go out like a man," the lancer said, dejected. "You're sure there's nothing we can do?"

The way she hesitated before speaking made him feel more uneasy than stepping on a landmine could make him feel.

"There's a way. But you'd best hope you don't have the same kind of luck you've been having today, for all of our sakes."

* * *

Amy raised a hand, signaling the detachment to stop. They had reached a small forest path that wound through the forest. Judging by the footprints of Imperial boots, a cigarette butt here and there, and a ZM cartridge, it seemed that it was a fairly commonly used patrolling route by the Imps. Here, the detachment turned and followed parallel to the path until they could just barely see the edge of the forest.

"It might be too dangerous if we move to the edge of the forest and try to take a look at the town there," Amy said. "Any of you good at climbing trees?"

Mira, the Darcsen from the Knight detachment, raised her hand. "I can, Sergeant Caird."

"All right, good. Find a tree close to here that you can climb up and take a good look at the town. We'll stay on the ground and keep watch. Peron, the cans. Thank you."

He handed Amy two cans with string attached to the ends, in peace a children's novelty, but in wartime a simple means of communication.

"Take this up with you and report to me what you see," Amy told the Darcsen. "The rest of you, spread yourselves along and take a lookout for enemy patrols.

Mira took the cans and paced about, looking for a good tree to climb. She settled upon an oak near the path with especially broad, high limbs. With a running start she nimbly clambered up the tree to the highest limbs. Amy caught the receiving can as Mira dropped it below.

"What do you see?" Amy asked, talking into the can.

"It's…a lot of it is destroyed. Either the fighting in the past was fierce, or they've done it deliberately. Let me look through my binoculars."

There was a short pause, and then a sharp intake of breath on the other side.

"There are only a few houses left. They've got the old watchtower still up, and the ancient manor there. City Hall is still there, I think. But the factory is completely destroyed!"

"The factory? Where would they keep their armor support?"

"Behind the town, perhaps? But I thought they had trenchworks in the back."

There was an uneasy silence as the observation sank in. If the town was so lightly guarded, and without armor support, it was sure to simply be a ploy to lure them in and then annihilate them all with a massive counterattack. This operation seemed to be going downhill from the very start.

In the distance they could hear a distinctive bird call: a whistle that seemed to rise up slowly and then break into a quick melody. It was the call of a Gallian Nightingale…which was strange, because they were only found in Kloden. It wasn't like Amy to be distracted so easily, but the call was so distinct to her ears that she couldn't help but wonder. The call repeated again, but this time with a further sense of urgency, it seemed. And this time, in the background, she could hear plodding footsteps on the road.

Damn it.

* * *

"_That's_ the plan? No way! Let me just end it here."

"No, listen to me, I can do it."

"That's insane!" Alexander was shouting now. "I'm not endangering anyone else for my own mistake."

"It happens, Alexander. But we minesweepers are used to that," Aaliyah replied calmly. Alexander sighed deeply, clearly unhappy about the issue.

"Fine. Then explain the whole procedure again. I don't want to screw anything up."

"Good, that's better. You listen too, Annica. Annica, you'll take all of my tools and Alexander's stuff, and take cover behind that big rock fifty paces forward over there. Don't expose even a hair outside of that rock. Now when I tell you to go, Alexander, you will run to that rock as fast as you possibly can and take cover. When the mine pops up into the air, I will hit it with the butt of my rifle and try to knock it away as far from you guys as possible. As soon as I do I will run as quickly as I can to join you, but chances are great that I might catch some shrapnel even if I hit it. We call it 'batting up,' but I've only heard of it used once."

"_Great_. I get to be the second. You sure you're going to do this?"

"Either that, or we leave you here."

Annica scooped up Aaliyah's tools strewn all over the floor, as well as Aaliyah and Alexander's gear, taking them to the other side of the large rock. If they were going to do this, they needed to be as quick as possible. The only items they had of some weight were the suits of blast armor they wore, to protect them from any shrapnel just in case, and Aaliayah's rifle. She took the magazine out of her rifle, making sure no rounds were left in the chamber before holding it by the barrel so that the butt could serve as a makeshift bat.

"You ready?"

"Sure." Luckily Alexander was not particularly nervous under fire, Aaliyah thought.

She shouted to the direction of the rock. "Annica! You behind cover?"

"Yes ma'am!"

"Good. We'll go on the count of three. One…two…_three_!"

Alexander bolted to the rock as fast as a frightened rabbit, rolling over the rock and safely behind cover next to Annica. Although they had their hands pressed over their ears, they had expected to at least hear a muffled explosion, or feel it through the ground. But there was nothing.

Five seconds passed in what seemed like an eternity. Then without warning, a breathless Aaliyah tumbled over the rock in front of them. Her eyes sparkled with a bit of mirth.

"Well, Alexander, you're in a stroke of luck. The mine's a dud. Didn't even pop up! Even still, we have to get it taken care of. Today's dud mine could be a deadly one tomorrow. Pass me a grenade, Annica."

Annica gave her a standard stick grenade, which Aaliyah grabbed and signaled for them to stay behind cover. Pulling the fuse, she lobbed it over the rock and ducked. She heard the grenade going off, and then a _bloop_ as the mine launched into the air and exploded. The sound of shrapnel hitting the earth was like a sudden, heavy hail.

"It should be safe to look now."

Cautiously the three peeked above the rock. There was a smoking crater where the grenade was, but no crater for the mine. Little divots uprooted by the shrapnel were scattered everywhere.

"That's a tell tale mine crater. All right, get all your gear back on. We're falling back to the truck; the explosion has probably attracted a patrol or two, and we don't have the firepower of our comrades to deal with them. Move out, and watch your feet!"

"You can bet I'll take that advice," Alexander remarked as he hefted his lance. The close brush with death didn't seem to shake him at all, Annica marveled.

"Need a lift?"

He extended a hand to help her up, and as their gloveless hands met, she understood: His hands were ice cold.

* * *

"Stay where you are. Don't move!" Amy whispered sharply into the can as she flattened herself behind the large oak tree. The footsteps approached closer…there was the sound of laughter and the pungent smell of cigarettes.

"Hear those Gallians are finally moving out against us," said a bold, young voice.

"Well, glad they finally got the balls to start the fight. They say they're all fresh recruits! We'll crush them in no time," spoke another haughty one.

"We're new recruits too," another voice piped up.

"We've got better training though," the second voice said huskily. "Plus, I hear the Gallian dogs have a bunch of women in their army. What are they going to do, seduce us and kill us with VD or something?"

"It seems all the Gallian women are tarts. At least, of all the ones I've seen," said the first.

"Probably because they're the only ones who would want to stay behind in our turf," the third voice qualified.

"Shit, Vill, you always have to one-up us?"

A bit of silence. They were just in front of Amy's tree when they suddenly stopped. Amy held her breath, not even daring to make the slightest move.

"Hey, take a look at that squirrel over there."

Out of the corner of her eye she could see a squirrel resting on its haunches some thirty paces away, stuffing the fallen acorns into its cheeks. It was quite innocent of its surroundings. These woods were sufficiently untouched so that the animals did not have the fear of man.

"I'd say it looks like it could be a Gallian spy, don't you? We should take him out," the second voice said.

"Psh, you'll miss. Don't even bother; just a squirrel anyway."

"I never miss."

There was the sound of a rifle being shouldered, and then the loud report of the Kar. The soldiers whooped and hollered running over.

"Damn! That was one hell of a hit!"

"I told you. I never miss!"

And so they walked on, laughing. Amy waited until she could no longer see or hear them at all before venturing out onto the path. Mira climbed down quickly from her tree. All along the path, the members of the detachment were stepping out into the open, walking to the place…

Amy had seen horrors before—the brutality of trench warfare—but the sight was terrible even to her. The squirrel had not only been hit; it had literally been sliced in half by a bullet as big as its own head. Its entrails hung out in a torn mess, and its eyes were glazed over. It had died instantly.

Even Frank couldn't bring himself to take a picture of the scene. Spreckels turned his head away from the corpse. Victor Wulfstan, the hunter, was trembling in fury...no one had ever seen him lose his composure like this. "Those bastards! I'll kill them!"

Amy took a deep breath. "Victor!" she said sharply. "This isn't the time. We have a mission to complete. As for the rest of you, remember this sight. This is what the Imps are doing to Gallia. We must not fail."

"Just wait until tomorrow. I saw their faces…I will hunt them down!"

In the distance a loud boom could be heard. While several of the Gallians turned their heads to the noise in surprise, Amy was perfectly calm. Something in her was telling her not to worry. Silently she made the hand motion to form up behind her, and soon the detachment melted back into the forest, back towards exfiltration. Revenge would come soon...the beginning of the end.


End file.
